


Ideal

by zeesqueere



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ambiguous Inquisitor, Companion AU, Companion!Trevelyan, Gen, Trevelyan family shenanigans, Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 16:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18097823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeesqueere/pseuds/zeesqueere
Summary: Errol is a bastard in both senses; sassy mages w(h)ine and bitch supportively; Orlesian politics are a dumpster fire; the Trevelyans are a dramatic family; Evelyn is the only competent relative, as usual.





	Ideal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captain_othersider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_othersider/gifts).



> Evelyn Trevelyan belongs to @captain-othersider, who also wrote the note from Evelyn (sans my minor alterations) and is the person that inspired me to write this!

Errol closed his eyes and drew a long-suffering breath, exhaling slowly enough that Josephine couldn’t scold him for sighing in the middle of the duchess’ anecdote regarding heel height. Her elbow knocked into the base of his ribcage, signalling to him that his slight had been noted anyways; so much for Inquisition support from that duchy, after all. Josephine’s glare grew even sharper when he excused himself from the conversation with a bow that was likely too shallow or too short or too... something, anything. Etiquette and Orlesian manners be damned, he had a world to save.

  
A world to save and relatives to avoid. Evelyn’s tips were rarely wrong and he really didn’t feel like risking an encounter in any case. Errol placed his palm over the pocket he’d secured the letter, its shape and texture serving to settle his nerves a few degrees. He dug it out surreptitiously and reread the short missive out of a desire to occupy his hands more than any need to reacquaint himself with its contents. Just as last time, it read: 

> Errol,  
>  I ran a little recon and thought I'd share the results. Here's a list of our relatives that are certain, or very likely, to be present in Halamshiral in case you need to plan accordingly; Maker knows I do:  
>  Aunt Meredith (doubtlessly)  
>  Cousin Richard (likely in attendance; do not mention the ham)  
>  Aunt Claray and Uncle Dugald (don’t argue with them about Starkhaven again this time)  
>  Cousin Eustace  
>  Aunt Hortense (unfortunately)  
>  Uncles Frédéric, Frederico, and Frederick  
>  Great Aunt Patricia (DEFINITELY attending—steel yourself)  
>  Please turn this over to Josephine once you're done.  
>  Evelyn

“Chin up, darling,” Vivienne cooed, walking up and handing him a flute of wine fizzing with little golden bubbles. “It’s far too early in the evening to walk around with a face that screams ‘please skin me and fashion my bones into a footstool’ quite so plainly. The hors d'oeuvres haven’t even been refreshed yet.”

  
“Remind me again why we cannot simply allow Orlais to… Why we must intervene in Orlesian politics,” he hastily amended at the arching of her perfectly plucked brow.

  
“Because,” Dorian interrupted, appearing as if from thin air, “you know better than most what will happen should Celene meet her end tonight.”

  
Errol fought to keep a pout off his face with little success: “‘Could’ happen,” he corrected petulantly.

  
“If that’s how you want to play it…”

Vivienne and Dorian exchanged a series of glances Errol couldn’t decipher.

  
“That’s just it! I don’t want to play anything! What’s so great about a series of mind games that get powerful people killed and leave their subjects to suffer?”

  
If looks could kill, Vivienne’s unimpressed stare would have roasted him like a stuffed goose. Even Dorian sighed at Errol’s outburst, content to let Madame de Fer take over for the time being.

  
“Look, dear,” she started, “you are here on behalf of the Inquisition to help secure alliances among the most veteran players of the Great Game so that we may have access to resources and the support of people that matter if we are defeat Corypheus. The Inquisitor asks that you tap into the prestige that comes with your pedigree and put your family connections to use for the greater good. Personal feelings cannot be allowed to interfere in such an operation.”

  
“Then the Inquisitor sent the wrong Trevelyan,” he responded flatly. “There isn’t a wellbred aristocrat alive that would so much as acknowledge Reginald Trevelyan’s half-elf bastard as a legitimate representative of my father’s family, and to send such an agent to garner support from them is tantamount to announcing that the Inquisition has no sense for politics.”

  
“The Inquisitor is an idealist,” said Dorian. “Your presence sends a very deliberate message. I urge you to consider just what it is your presence here is supposed to say.”

  
Vivienne continued: “it means that the Inquisitor wishes for the court of Orlais to know that someone born outside of wedlock to an elvhen servant girl is still worthy of your last name. That you are still deserving of the respect that the Trevelyan name demands. Why else do you think you’re accompanied tonight by a man from Tevinter and a magic-wielding courtier?”

  
“Aside from the fact no one else in the Inquisition seems capable of dressing themselves, of course,” Dorian muttered.  
“We all have our parts to play, large and small. Would you truly continue to let these people dictate your very value unchallenged? It seems I may have overestimated you indeed,” Vivienne added before draining the last of her glass.

  
Errol stared into his own flute of wine, watching as the last of the bubbles surfaced and popped.

  
Vivienne all but pulled him back into the ballroom: “Come, let’s get you a fresh glass. The night will be too long for you to let the good stuff go flat.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited because this is essentially the rejected first draft of this scene as it went in a direction I wasn’t expecting, but it’s still good enough to keep. Let me know if you find any glaring errors.


End file.
